A JOURNEY THROUGH MEMORY, FEAR & RELIEF

My Doctor’s Visit

This morning, I went to the doctor.

It was meant to be simple; blood tests, check-up, reassurance.

But what unfolded was so much more; a journey through memories, love, grief, courage and finally, lightness.

The Lab & The Routine

I started at the lab, where a nurse did the usual poke on my left arm. Then came the urine test and after that, I was free to head to the clinic.

Since I was early, the doctor’s nurse suggested breakfast. Toast with butter, half-boiled eggs, a cup of unsweetened chai; simple, grounding and unexpectedly comforting.

Sitting there, my heart wandered through the past decade…bringing my mom to this same clinic, watching her bond with the doctor who became like family, who cared for her until her last moments.

Memories Flood In

Today is February 7th — just 13 months after my mom passed on January 7th, 2025. 

Sitting there, memories of her presence were vivid. I could almost see her in the wheelchair, quietly observing me as she always did. If my hair had been down, she would have frowned with a smile and whispered, “Tie your hair up!”

Talking with the nurse, who had also been close to my mom, brought back even more tender reflections. My mom worried most about me. Even about things that seemed small, like whether I would find a partner and not stay alone. I cried quietly but composed myself as other patients came in for their appointments.

Meeting the Doctor

When it was finally my turn, the doctor asked me to explain the dizziness I had experienced. Looking at my blood test results, he said everything was fine. My occasional, brief spells of dizziness and the slight increase in tinnitus were nothing to worry about. I mentioned I’d already started taking Betaserc, which helped and he was pleased.

Then we talked, not just about symptoms but about life. I shared stories of my recent winter challenges and my Nepal trip. He shared his own winter adventures. The clinical space became human again; a space for connection, storytelling and laughter.

The Relief

Walking out, the weight of fear, worry and the past few days lifted. The culprit was my tinnitus, not illness. My body was well. My mind was well. I was well.

Reflection

Today reminded me that showing up for yourself, even for a routine check-up, is an act of courage.

Grief and memory do not disappear in these moments; they sit quietly with us.

But so can clarity, reassurance and relief; like a deep, gentle exhale.

My mom would have been proud.

I am grateful.

And today, I am light.

WALK FOR PEACE DAY 95!

Back on a review of Walk For Peace…😊

Today, watching the monks on Day 95, I am overwhelmed with awe and gratitude.

These souls teach the world peace, compassion and mindfulness…not with words, speeches or titles but through living it step by step.

They are simple, humble, devoted humans who carry the highest truths in their hearts and yet the world can feel their presence deeply.

I bow in spirit to their dedication, their courage and their quiet, unwavering care for all beings.

I am reminded that true teaching does not always need a podium…it can simply exist in the way one lives, breathes and moves through the world.

Today, I hold this feeling close; 

• A reminder to embody peace in my own small ways
• Gratitude for witnessing something so pure
• Inspiration to let action, presence and care speak louder than words

May this awe remain a gentle light in my heart, guiding me toward patience, compassion and mindful presence. 🙏🏻✨

A FINAL CLOSING REFLECTION: WHEN THE PATH REVEALS ITSELF

As this series comes to a close, (though I may review further since the Walk For Peace has not reached their Final Destination), I realize that the Walk for Peace has been doing more than sharing a message; it has been a quietly revealing one.

Through the monks’ journey, memories surfaced. 

The image of a monk who lost his leg brought me back to my late mom; to the years of pain, uncertainty and recovery after her accident. 

To the moment she stood up from her wheelchair, took a few steps and began walking again. 

To the way faith carried her forward, not dramatically, but steadily, lovingly and without surrender.

And with that, something else became clear.

My own faith. 

My connection to the Buddha’s teachings. 

My draw toward Vipassana meditation. 

The ten days of silence in Nepal. 

The patience, endurance and awareness I’ve been cultivating over time; all of it suddenly made sense. It was never random. It was never separate.

The Walk for Peace did not give me new beliefs.

It helped me recognize the ones that were already walking with me.

Perhaps that is what peace truly is; not something we seek outside ourselves, but something that reveals itself when we are ready to see the path we’ve already been on.

Step by step.

With faith.

With awareness.

With an open heart.

WALKING WITH PEACE: A PERSONAL AND PRE CLOSING REFLECTION

A Quiet Personal Pre Closing

As I reflect on the Walk for Peace, I cannot help but think of my late mom. 

After a freak accident, doctors told her she would never walk again and that a wheelchair would be her future. 

But one day, in a moment that still feels sacred to me, she received light from the Buddha. 

She stood up from her wheelchair, took a few steps and then sat down again. From that day onward, she walked.

Her leg was shorter by three inches. We modified her shoe to match her height. And after that there was simply no stopping her. She cooked, she moved about the house, she lived fully, as though we were still children under her care.

Watching the monks walk, step by step, mile by mile, I see the same quiet determination. Not defiance. Not drama. Just faith expressed through action. Just love refusing to be confined by fear or prediction.

My mom  taught me, long before this walk, that peace is not the absence of hardship. It is the courage to rise, adjust and keep going. It is kindness in motion. Faith made visible through everyday acts.

Perhaps that is why the Walk for Peace feels so close to my heart. Because I have already seen what it means to walk beyond limitation, guided by faith, resilience and love.

And that, for me, is peace.

(Last blog on Walk For Peace series: A Final Closing Reflection: When the Path Reveals Itself) 

PEACE BEYOND RELIGION

Kindness, understanding and hope that transcends all boundaries.

One of the most beautiful aspects of the Walk for Peace is its ability to transcend boundaries. 

Religion, age, background and all the labels we usually carry in life, fade when people come together in hope and kindness.

Every day, the monks meet people from different communities. Some curious, some doubtful, some simply watching quietly. 

They offer small blessings, a red string on the wrist, a bottle of holy water, a kind word. And the people receive it without judgment; not because they all believe the same things, but because the heart behind the gesture is visible.

It’s extraordinary and yet so simple. 

Peace doesn’t demand uniformity. It doesn’t insist on conversion or agreement. 

It asks only for openness; the willingness to accept care, the willingness to give care, the willingness to stand with one another even when life is messy and uncertain.

Watching this unfold makes me reflect on our everyday lives. 

How often do we stop ourselves from kindness because of differences? 

How often do we limit compassion to those “like us”? 

The Walk for Peace reminds me that true peace begins in small acts of recognition, patience and love and it is strongest when it reaches across differences.

There is a quiet miracle in these interactions. Laughter, smiles, blessings and ordinary gestures that carry extraordinary meaning. The monks continue their walk, step by step, mile by mile, in rain, heat and possibly snow, carrying a message that is simple but profound i.e. 

peace is possible, if we let our hearts meet one another 

And for me, that is the enduring lesson of this walk; faith, courage, patience and love - they do not belong to any single religion or group. They belong to anyone willing to walk with awareness and an open heart.

When people come together in hope and kindness, everything else fades…and peace begins! 

FAITH TESTED ON THE ROAD

Enduring heat, rain, cold and fatigue with mindfulness and compassion.

Walking hundreds of miles for peace is not easy. The monks face harsh conditions every single day with the sun beating down, sudden rainstorms, cold nights, long stretches of uneven roads and .. ‘ouch!’ sore, bruised feet. Yet, they walk on.

Also, it is not just their endurance, but the way they carry it, with patience, humour and care for one another. They notice small things, if someone needs warmth, if someone’s shoes are wet, if someone is hungry and they respond without complaint.

Sometimes, I worry about them facing snow in the coming days. But watching them now, I know they will meet it as they meet every challenge, calmly, with preparation and with faith. 

Every step is mindful, every pause intentional. They are not walking blindly, they are walking with purpose.

Even in exhaustion, they share smiles, jokes and gentle words. They laugh about minor discomforts, tease one another lightly and look out for each other. And yet, beneath the laughter, there is steadfastness, a quiet commitment to continue, regardless of the conditions.

This walk is more than miles. It is a living test of faith, patience, compassion and endurance. And through it all, they remind me that true courage is not about avoiding hardship, but about continuing with kindness and mindfulness even in the face of it.

I am left in awe. And I am learning from them to meet my own challenges ie physical, emotional or spiritual, with a little more patience, a little more care and a little more grace.

(Next blog: Peace Beyond Religion) 

THEY ARE JUST LIKE US

Humanity, laughter and care; seeing extraordinary courage in ordinary moments.

As I continue following the Walk for Peace, something quietly beautiful stands out to me; beyond the robes, the discipline and the purpose, they are simply human, just like us.

They laugh. They tease one another. They worry when someone looks unwell. They remind each other to eat, to rest and to stay warm. In between long stretches of walking, there are moments of lightness, shared smiles, gentle jokes and small comforts that feel deeply familiar.

Watching them, I’m struck by how ordinary these moments are and how extraordinary that ordinariness feels in the context of such a profound journey. 

It reminds me that courage does not always look serious or solemn. 

Sometimes, courage looks like laughing despite uncertainty, caring despite fatigue and showing up for one another in the simplest ways.

What touches me most is how naturally kindness flows among them. No grand gestures. No loud declarations. Just quiet attentiveness, like checking in, staying close, offering presence. These moments make the Walk for Peace feel less distant, less symbolic and more intimate.

In seeing their humanity, I feel a deep sense of connection. The Walk no longer feels like something happening “out there,” led by extraordinary beings. 

It feels close. Relatable. Possible. It gently reminds me that peace does not require perfection; only sincerity, care and the willingness to walk together.

Perhaps this is one of the most powerful lessons of all ie peace begins not with ideals but with how we treat one another in ordinary moments. 

(Next Blog: Faith Tested on the Road)